Saturday, April 7, 2018

day FOUR HUNDRED and FORTY THREE

New to Berlin New Hampshire 


I’ve seen too much

sadness in my lifetime

So, I cannot just say stop…

I have walked away from the written

word too many times

to call myself a poet…

My dreams are fables

of uselessness, shame

of isolation…wanting

something from nothing.

Looking, seeing a child

coming home from school

with a backdrop of mountains,

Souls jumping from those mountains...

Frightened of walking out

the door…

Observing from afar…

participation in zero …

No whims or desires to act upon…

Just mumbling and internal torment…

Oh yes, oh yes…it is there…there

for no one to see…walking into

walls…that really do not exist.

--Dan Provost


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